Slow Burn
by darkMyst19
Summary: <html><head></head>Perfect. Coward. Strange. Three student and their obsessions. Goyle is tired of being a lacky, Draco is hiding his own secret, and Harry Potter does not seem so heroic. GoyleDraco, HarryDraco, possible other pairings. Non-con and violence.</html>
1. Chapter 1

Dark here with some edits. I have decided to combine the first three chapters I had into one. I had originally planned for it to turn out that way. Also went back and corrected some grammar mistakes. Let me know if I didn't catch them all.

Warnings: I really do not enjoy fluff. I really enjoy dark fics, especially those in which my favorite character is tortured. So if this doesn't float your boat, then go back to the mainland. This fic will include rape/non-con, violence, and any other crazy, messed up things my mind can think up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I just dream up perverted fantasies involving the characters. Those fantasies however do belong to me.

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><p>September 17<p>

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Blond hair gelled back to reveal silver-gray eyes. Light pink lips pulled tight on ivory skin. Beauty unlike any other creature. And this beauty shall mine. I know every move he makes. I should after looking at his back for five years. But through my loyalty has not yet earned me his affectionate gaze. He sees me only as an idiotic follower, but I will soon make him learn from his mistakes. Each Thursday, when the Gryffindors have quidditch practice, he is there watching in secret from behind the Slytherin banner. As his eyes follow their seeker, behind him will I creep with wand and bonds ready, I will take him there while his love, just feet away, smiles in ignorance.

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><p>September 17<p>

Coward. What a coward I am. Each night since THAT night I continue to go to him. And each night is an exact replica of the one before it. '_Expelliarmus. Crucio. Hush now. Step, step, step. Zip. Slam. White. Red. Scourgify. Crucio. Come tomorrow. Good night, Love. Laugh_.' Fear makes me return each night, and Fear keeps me from ending this torment. Every Thursday, I conceal myself behind the Slytherin banner. Beneath my cloak, my drawn wand follows the figure that follows the winged ball. My lips yearn to form those life-ending words, but my tongue paralyzes itself within my mouth. So be it fear or something more which stills my hand, I swear that by my words and by my wand his life will end.

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><p>September 17<p>

Strange. That is what they would think if they knew. But it was them that forced me to it. The Golden Boy must be skilled. The Boy Who Lived must be kind. The Chosen One must be perfect. Despite all the money I inherited from my parents' death, I still wear my cousin's overgrown clothes or Mrs. Weasley's itchy sweaters because the savior of the wizarding world must be humble. When I first learned I was a wizard, I thought that I would be freed from the torment of life. But once I left that prison I was thrust into another. Year after year of putting on this mask. Never allowed to get angry like Ron or critical like Hermione. Both would judge me otherwise. Night was the only time I could be myself. With the Marauder's Map and my invisibility cloak, I could roam with the entire castle to myself. And then one night, I was interrupted. That spoiled prat bothered me at the only time I could be free. Before I knew it, he was sprawled on the ground. As I watched him convulse in pain, I noticed how beautiful he was when those stone grey eyes glittered with tears. My body reacted and soon it was over. I felt powerful, in charge. I didn't want this high to end, so I told him to meet me again. Now every night I look into his grey eyes feeling like a demigod.

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><p>Sooooo, how was it? I'd love to here any reviews or suggestions. Also Goyle or Harry? I have scenarios for both. I usually lean toward HPDM, but I am open to anything. THANKS FOR READING.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Dark here. It has been a while hasn't it, almost a year. I am ashamed of myself for stalling this long before updating. Truth is I went to university this year and got a beau. Both of which ended up not really working out. But on the up side I am planning on paying more attention to this fanfic.

Warnings: Non-con/rape and violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any profit off my demented fanfictions.

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><p>Draco awoke early on the morning of September 18th. He quietly made his way to the lavatory past the beds of the other fifth year Slytherin boys. Draco was sure to check every wash stall before undressing. The night before had left him with many purple and green bruises that he did not want to explain to his classmates. He stood under the faucet of the shower feeling the cold water hit his skin and soothe the marks on his back.<p>

Draco held the lavender scented soap in his right hand and roughly scrub his body clean. He scrubbed himself three times over, careful to not let one spot of his body untouched by the soap. He then grabbed his bottle of shampoo and ran the formula through his hair followed by conditioner. This too he did three times. Although Draco did not feel clean after his ritual, he knew he only had a few more minutes before the other boys would begin to awake.

He dried himself and dressed himself quickly before tiptoeing back to his four-poster bed. There were still another few hours before breakfast and classes, but Draco was unable to fall back asleep. Instead, he closed his eyes and imagined the deed he was to fulfill later that day.

He would have to make sure that Potter's death could not be traced back to him. He knew that as the son of a Death Eater he would quickly be suspected. The trace of the killing curse could not be left on his wand, so he devised to steal the wand of a Hufflepuff student that sat beside him in Transfiguration. He would then dispose of the wand by burning it into ashes. The only thing he needed to devise would be his alibi. He had already grabbed a stash of polyjuice potion from Snape's classroom and dropped one of his hairs in it.

The question was who would drink the potion. He couldn't trust Crabbe or Goyle with it because they would ask to many questions as simple as they are, and Pansy was a gossip. The best choice would be Blaise. Blaise had been a good friend of Draco's since third year, and with the promise of a ten to twenty galleons, he was sure to keep his trap shut without asking questions. Draco would confront him after breakfast for his cooperation.

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><p>Goyle awoke to the same light footsteps that woke him every morning for the past five years on their way to the washroom. It was only a quarter till five; still too early for the other students to wake and start their morning routines. Goyle counted the footsteps. One, two, three, four, Draco was at the foot of his bed now, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, Draco opened the door to the bathroom. The footsteps could no longer be heard, but two minutes later, Goyle could make out the muffled sound of water hitting the floor.<p>

He had fifteen minutes before Draco would make his way back to his bed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and, with as much delicacy a two hundred and thirty pound boy could manage, tiptoed to the bed four footsteps from his. The sheets fell halfway off the bed onto the emerald rug beneath it. Goyle's hands slide over the fabric until they reached the silk encased pillow. He lifted it up to his nose and breathed in deeply. He groaned at the scent: lavender and mints. A blonde hair still lied on the pillowcase. Goyle plucked it from its place and cradled it in his hand. With his other hand, he reached for his enlarged member and began to gently stroke. He imagined holding a handful of Draco's hair as Draco took went down upon him. His tongue flicking and tracing the head of his member and then engulfing it. Goyle's gentle strokes quickly change into fevered pumping. It didn't take long for Goyle to come into his hand. He wiped the white liquid on the edge of Draco's sheets before taking another whiff of the pillow's scent and tiptoeing back to his four-poster bed.

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><p>Harry nibbled on a dry piece of toast as Hermione began her morning rant. Whether she was complaining about his study habits, or Ron's inability to chew with his mouth shut, Harry had already tuned her out. This morning he was preoccupied by the two boys sitting behind Hermione at the Slytherin table. The blond boy was unusually happy and shaking the dark-skinned boy's hand in a sign of gratitude, which was unusual for the blond. Harry would not call himself a possessive person, mostly on account that he had few possessions that were not hand-me-downs or kept in the Gringotts bank until he was of age; however, he couldn't deny the murderous feeling that he had towards Blaise for producing such a smile on his toy's face. As the hands of the two parted, Harry caught the glare of a flask, but Blaise quickly tucked the bottle into his breast pocket before Harry could make out the contents. The two boys then began with their usual morning banter as if the exchange hadn't just taken place. The murderous intent was quickly changed to suspicion. But Harry wasn't able to reflect on his suspicion because, at that moment, a very worried, very shrill Hermione began to call his name.<p>

"Harry? Are you all right? Have you heard a word of what I have said to you?" asked the frizzy-haired girl.

"Sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night. I guess I'm still tired," he responded.

"Anyhow, back to the issue at hand, how should we communicate with members of the DA?" she said. Harry breathed a quick sigh of relief that she decided not to ask about what had kept him up last night. He really couldn't care less about the DA, but he had to keep up appearances.

"Come on, 'Mione. I know you are smart enough to think up a way to communicate. Just keep at it," said Harry. He hoped the pep talk would be enough so he could leave the table without being pestered with more questions.

"Alright, Harry. I suppose I can try looking in the library again tonight," she responded before chastising Ron for the amount of dirt under his fingernails.

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><p>Sorry it is so short. I just wanted to update after so much time. Sooooo, how was it? I'd love to here any reviews or suggestions. Also Goyle or Harry? I have scenarios for both. I usually lean toward HPDM, but I am open to anything. THANKS FOR READING.<p> 


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